


right under your nose

by entrechat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Atsumu is annoying, Autumn, First Meeting, Honey, Kissing, M/M, Onigiri Miya, Oops, OsaSuna Week, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Suna Rintarou-centric, and i call this a ship fic, bookstore, except it's not called onigiri miya, first touch, he is just there to cause grief, i spent too much time thinking about tea orders, osamu is actually barely in this, suna goes through it, the universe is bullshit, there's a lot of coincidences for plot purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entrechat/pseuds/entrechat
Summary: Rintarou had resigned himself, on his twenty-fifth birthday, that soulmates were useless. He had assumed from the beginning that there was a certain moth drawn to the flame element that had somehow been failed to be gifted to him in addition to his soul mark. How else were people supposed to find their soulmates without baring their marks to the world? Rintarou would rather not wear clothing revealing enough to show off his entire hip bone in some lame attempt to make the person who was destined to be with him until the end of time notice him. There was no other explanation for why he had never found the person he had been subconsciously searching for his entire life. There had to be something that had gone wrong during the universe’s assignment and left him with a silver fox to judge him for his loneliness for all eternity.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 214
Collections: OsaSuna Week 2020, SunaOsa





	right under your nose

**Author's Note:**

> OsaSuna Week (Late Submission)  
> Day 3 - Tier 1 + Tier 2 - First/Touch + Autumn/Honey
> 
> This is a day late because I let myself get distracted for too long, but I finished so here it is. As always Kudos and Comments are super appreciated. Shoutout to Dylan for Betaing this <3
> 
> Dylan Comment of the Fic: eehhhhhhhh suna he’s closer than you think
> 
> Happy Reading~

The silver fox that marked Rintarou’s left hip bone, sitting prettily, stared back at him mockingly. Rintarou had spent a vast amount of time, staring at himself in the mirror, or rather staring at the mark. Every moment he found himself changing a shirt or stripping down before a shower, he caught sight of it in his peripherals, peeking over the waistband of his bottoms or fully splayed out to taunt him. A silver fox, sitting prettily, coy expression lining its face, and making him feel like the world was absolute bullshit.

It was bad enough when the mark had popped up on his eighteenth birthday, reminding him that this was a universe where things were laid out for you. Now, it was just humiliating. It had been just over seven years since the appearance of his _soul mark,_ and still with no soulmate to speak for. It had to be some kind of sick joke. Rintarou’s entire family had found their soulmates within five years of their own soul marks blooming from different places on their skin, even his school friends were all sending wedding invitations his way. Yet here he was, living in a way too empty apartment, and staring at a silver fox with all the enthusiasm (Read: Exasperation) he could muster.

Rintarou had resigned himself, on his twenty-fifth birthday, that soulmates were useless. He had assumed from the beginning that there was a certain _moth drawn to the flame_ element that had somehow been failed to be gifted to him in addition to his soul mark. How else were people supposed to find their soulmates without baring their marks to the world? Rintarou would rather not wear clothing revealing enough to show off his entire hip bone in some lame attempt to make the person who was destined to be with him until the end of time notice him. There was no other explanation for why he had never found the person he had been subconsciously searching for his entire life. There had to be something that had gone wrong during the universe’s assignment and left him with a silver fox to judge him for his loneliness for all eternity.

With a heavy groan, Rintarou tore his eyes away from the mirror after one last scowl at the reflection. He didn’t have time to spend hours just whining to himself about his inability to find _one person._

He slips the shirt he was holding onto his frame, narrowing his eyes at a fraying edge on the cuff of the right sleeve. His fingers itch to pull at it but he stalls, rational thought telling him it will only make it worse. He clenches his jaw tightly and folds the sleeves up, rolling them twice to hide the cuff from him so it won’t be a reminder every time he stares at it. A reminder that things fall apart. Rintarou huffs, pulling on a coat and weaving his way through his apartment on auto pilot, collecting his things. He hoists his bag over his shoulder, grabs his keys from the coffee table, and slips his shoes on in the genkan. He’s out the door like a whisper caught up in the wind.

Rintarou has been feeling a lot like that lately. Merely a whisper when everything else is shouting.

Every day just seemed to slip into the next until Rintarou started being unable to distinguish what weekday it was or what happened the day before. Moments simply bleeding together out of uselessness.

He’d go to work, sell some books to some eclectic looking people, drink at least four cups of coffee — even if they made him more tired than energized — buy some pre-made bento or hope he has enough food in his fridge for a meal, go home, eat his dinner, shower, go to bed, rinse, and repeat. It wasn’t that he was _bored_ — _w_ ell, maybe he was. It was just the fact that no matter how hard he tried to make the world feel bright and exciting, the dull ache of his heart and the emptiness of a presence dragged him down to the reality that he was completely and utterly _alone._ Co-workers, friends, and family be damned. He was missing a vital piece of himself, and was reminded every time he looked at his hip, or bumped into something and groaned at the pain right where the mark was. He was missing his other half. But then again, that was part of the world that was bullshit. _Right?_

The only moments of his blurred life that stuck out, clear as day, were the interesting people he interacted with at the bookstore. A short boy with orange hair and boundless energy crashing into him as he made his way through the shelves, almost knocking him completely over despite the obvious height difference. A blond boy with glasses about the same height as him, who looked almost as bored to death as he was, but was trailed by a terminally delightful boy — must be his soulmate, Rintarou mused irritably — with olive hair and freckles who begged him to buy devastatingly long non fiction books. Even the man with a kind smile and dark skin, Ojiro Aran as Shinsuke would introduce them later as his soulmate. Aran dropped by often enough to see Shinsuke at work that Rintarou had grown to consider him more than just one of the customers in passing. Maybe acquaintance was a good enough label. His least favorite customer, who gave him the most entertainment, was a loud man with a terrible dye job and a voice dripping with Kansai-ben.

“I heard ya, ‘Samu. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Yer payin’ me back for this,'' the man in question huffed, phone pillowed between his shoulder and his ear as he carried three books over to the counter in front of Rintarou. Rintarou merely quirked his eyebrow as he rang up the books, gesturing to the price on the monitor, so as not to disturb the conversation. “Yes, I got all of ‘em,'' he paused and pulled out a few money notes, sliding them to Rintarou, who took them and exchanged them for the correct change. “Gotta go, ‘Samu. The pretty one is ringin’ me up.”

Rintarou fought the urge to roll his eyes and lost. “Don’t try and flatter me, Miya. You were calling Kita-san, ‘the pretty one’ last week until you found out he already had a soulmate. I’m hoping the universe didn’t swindle me with _you._ ”

Atsumu snorted, a horribly unattractive sound, and smiled with all his teeth. “Aw, c’mon, Suna. Ya know you love me.”

Rintarou rolled his eyes again. He was worried if he spent any longer with the man his eyes would get stuck in the back of his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he punctuated with a telling yawn. “Now get out so I can go home,” he groaned when Atsumu leaned closer to him. He placed his entire palm over his grinning face and pushed him away. Atsumu raised his arms in defense before scooping up the books he purchased and leaving the shop behind with nothing but the ringing bell above the door and an amused smile on Rintarou’s face. Rintarou entertained the idea that if his personality had aligned with Rintarou’s a little better, there was a possibility he could love him. The thought process was cut short when he bumped the edge of the counter on his way to the backdoor and the reality of his soul mark came flooding back in.

Shrugging his coat back on while he walked out the door into the autumn chill, he thought of the books Atsumu bought. Judging by the phone conversation — and his general state of idiocy he pushed onto Rintarou — they very clearly weren’t for him. A recipe book, some classic literature book that Rintarou might’ve read in high school, and an autobiography of an accomplished chef. He hummed at the thought, nestling further into his coat at the breeze, and wondered what kinds of books his soulmate would buy. More importantly, he wondered if his soulmate actually even existed. He bristled at the thought, narrowing his eyes at the sky to relay the message to whatever higher power was in charge of all this.

Rintarou stopped walking outside a small shop just a block away from his apartment building. He pushed his way in, taking in the aroma of food being cooked. It became a sort of personal routine to get food from this specific place every Friday, just for a change of pace from his usual dinner choices. The hour left the place with no line, and he was ordering tuna onigiri to go and paying within moments of entering the store. The small blonde girl at the counter, ‘Yachi’ as her name tag supplies, smiled brightly at him while handing the paper bag over.

“Give my regards,” he mumbled on instinct, clutching the paper bag tighter.

“Of course, Suna-san” she bowed her head, eyes going wide for a moment. “You seem to always miss the owner, he leaves early on Fridays.”

Rintarou contemplated it for a moment, before nodding and walking out to his apartment. The world closed in on him in time with the sound of his front door shutting behind him. Back into the empty reality of a quiet apartment and dinner for one. He scowled down at the onigiri, before letting his face relax. The rice balls had done nothing to him, and were quite tasty, so they didn’t deserve his annoyance.

_______

When Rintarou rushed out of his house on Monday morning he cursed himself for sleeping in to the point where he didn’t have time to make breakfast or coffee. His eyes felt heavy as he rushed down the street, pulling the collar of his coat up to protect from the winds that were picking up with each new autumn day. His eyes spotted a small coffee shop at the end of the street and he instantly pulled out his phone.

**To: Kita-san**

7:59

\- can i be late if i bring u tea

\- sorry i slept in

\- but u get free tea !

**From: Kita-san**

8:00

\- Considering you’re already late.

\- It’s fine. Lavender tea with whole milk

\- Unsweetened.

**To: Kita-san**

8:00

\- thx

\- be there soon

Rintarou sighed in relief and walked into the coffee shop, delighted at the warmth coming from inside that fought away the chill from the outdoors. He squinted at the menu on the back wall, glancing down at his phone to confirm Shinsuke’s order, then back up. His mind went back and forth between coffee options, even though none of them would really wake him up. With two people in front of him he nodded and decided to go with a vanilla la-

“Cinnamon tea, hot. And could ya put in some honey for me?”

Rintarou blinked away some sort of daze he felt, unaware that he had been standing and staring blankly at the menu for about a minute when the bored man with glasses he sees at the bookstore asks for his order. ‘Tsukishima,’ his name tag reads. Rintarou gets distracted with that again when a slight edge of, “Are you going to order?” snaps him out of it.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hand gripping tightly around his phone with one hand while the other fishes his wallet from his pocket. “Unsweetened lavender tea with whole milk and…” he paused, contemplating the latte, “and a hot cinnamon tea.” He pulls out the bills and looks up as he hands them over. “With honey,” he adds as an afterthought.

Shuffling into the bookstore just over ten minutes late, Rintarou presents Shinsuke with the tea he requested then proceeded to take a hesitant sip of his own. Rintarou wasn’t really a tea person.

“Yer not a tea person,” Shinsuke mentioned, as if reading his thoughts.

“True. I just had this gut feeling to try it out, and it’s honestly really good,” Rintarou shrugged quickly, settling behind the counter and sipping quietly.

“What, like the universe was tellin’ ya to get that tea?” Shinsuke hummed lightly.

Shinsuke’s Kansai-ben reminded Rintarou of Atsumu, but their personalities were so different it was almost jarring. Shinsuke seemed much more regal and he wondered if he could just mash Shinsuke’s personality into Atsumu’s body and find himself with a perfect man. The universe had a funny way of messing with Rintarou.

 _Speak of the Devil_ , Rintarou thinks as the man ghosting through his thoughts emerges through the door like he should be given applause. Rintarou just stares.

“’m _back,_ Suna!” Atsumu singsongs as he approaches the counter, grin painted to resemble a fox and a book in his hand.

“Just when I thought the day would be good,” Rintarou bites back.

“Say it all ya want, I know ya think I’m nice to look at,” he presses on, placing the book on the counter, “I gotta return this. Even brought the receipt and everythin’.”

“Do you want a cookie or something?” Rintarou looks incredulous, the emotion dripping off his tongue like the honey that sweetened his tea. The thought alone makes his chest feel warm. “Miya, I’ve been meaning to ask. You’re obviously not literate, so who are these books for?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Atsumu’s response was dry while Rintarou went through the motions of taking the book in front of him and returning the appropriate amount of money. “They’re for my brother, but he’s runnin’ a business so I get the _joy_ of doin’ his errands.”

“I can tell who got the good genes in the family.”

“You haven’t even met him!” Atsumu sputters.

“Mm don’t need to, I can just tell.” Rintarou’s grin is anything but sweet, “Let me meet him sometime, so I can prove my theory.”

Atsumu just squints as he scoops up the money. He blows a dramatic kiss that Rintarou makes a show of swatting away before leaving the bookstore without another word. Rintarou is grateful for that.

________

The following Friday, by some miracle, Shinsuke lets Rintarou go home early. He doesn’t question it and just savors the small mercies, rushing out the back door before Shinsuke changes his mind. He’s happy enough to get home a half hour earlier to relax. Before that, he shuffles into his favorite onigiri shop, approaching the counter with a measured grin. He asks Hitoka to surprise him with flavors. He hands over his payment and steps to the side to wait when he squints at a familiar head of terribly yellow hair.

“Miya,” Rintarou groans on reflex, “what are you doing here?”

“Sunarin!” Atsumu cheers, laughing like something akin to a hyena at the way Rintarou visibly shudders at the new nickname. “What’re _you_ doin’ here?”

“I asked you first,” Rintarou responds matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

“If ya must know,” he pauses when the door to the shop opens and his face slips into a genuine grin, “I was waitin’ for my Omi-kun, and here he is.”

Rintarou turns his head to find an obscenely tall man with a mop of black curls and a face mask that does nothing to hide to scowl on his features. Rintarou finds himself mouthing _my Omi-kun_ to the floor like it would do anything to dull his confusion.

“Sunarin, meet Sakusa Kiyoomi. My _soulmate_ ,” he punctuates with a wiggle of his brows, “Omi-kun, this is Suna Rintarou. He works at that book store where I buy all those books for ‘Samu.”

Kiyoomi bows his head in an effort to show some acknowledgement, completely unaware of the chill that has run up Rintarou’s spine as soon as he hears the name _‘Samu._ “I’m sorry,” Rintarou starts, biting back an impish grin, “that you got him.”

“Ignore him, Omi-Omi. C’mon,” Atsumu cuts in before anybody else can say something incriminating against him, “we’re havin’ a hot date”

“I didn’t ask,” Rintarou quips as they walk out the door.

It’s not long after that, that Hitoka supplies him with his bag of assorted onigiri and he’s making his way out the door. Just before it shuts behind him he hears her high pitched voice call out a, “Suna-san, wait!”

Rintarou turns around, head cocked in question. His head feels funny and slightly muddled, and he walks back into the shop a bit too quickly at the same time a figure is approaching him. He registers lightly that the man looks like Atsumu but he ignores it, brushing past him to approach Hitoka. His hip bumps into the man, who might’ve been saying something to him, but after the brief contact Rintarou’s vision goes white and there’s a distinct and annoying ringing in his ears.

_What the fuck?_

__________

When Rintarou comes to, his head still feels like it’s swimming. He has to blink a few times to ground himself, looking around to determine where he is and what just happened. The first thing he notices is that he’s definitely in the back of the onigiri shop, sitting on a stool. He must’ve been slumped over the table until he woke up. The second thing he notices is the man he saw earlier, the Atsumu look alike, is sitting across from him with a slightly less bewildered expression than Rintarou is wearing.

Rintarou, ever the poet, slurs, “Miya? I just saw you, when did you have the time to dye your shitty hair silver?”

“Ya think I’m ‘Tsumu?” The man sighs with a roll of his eyes, and he leans forward with his chin propped up on one hand. “I’m his twin brother. Miya Osamu, and if I’m right in thinkin’ this, yer my soulmate.”

Rintarou’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps, left hand instinctively gripping at the soul mark on his hip. Osamu stands up, and he lifts up the hem of his shirt, a fox curled up in a ball with brown fur and a sleepy expression peeking just over his waistband. Rintarou involuntarily shudders.

“We both passed out when ya ran into me. I woke up before ya, and I had Yacchan lock up early, so it’s just us.”

“Did you _carry_ me back here?” Rintarou asks on impulse, still not fully recovered from his daze.

Osamu nods easily, eyebrow arched like the fact that he carried a fully grown man roughly the same height as him, if not taller, isn’t that hard to wrap his head around. Rintarou thinks he might faint again. Rintarou stands up, jerking out of his stool. Too fast. He struggles to find proper footing on the ground, stumbling to the side into something solid. Very solid. Rintarou blinks out of his stupor to look up at Osamu, who has caught his slumped figure, a light grin pulling at his lips like he doesn’t know why he’s smiling.

“So, you gonna show me yers or somethin’?”

Rintarou breathes out slowly, gripping Osamu’s biceps to steady himself back into standing on his own. _Firm._ He shakes the thought from his head, slouching slightly as he finally lets go of Osamu and pinches at the hem of his sweater. He looks up at Osamu, searching his expression for anything that says this is a joke, maybe Atsumu set it up. He sighs when all he finds in those pools of silver is earnest in its purest form. He pulls his shirt up, more of his mark visible over the top of his pants, considering his fox is sitting up. _His fox._ Something warm courses through him at the thought that suddenly makes complete sense to him. The fox he just saw laying across Osamu’s hip could look like him, and his own silver mark suddenly reminds him of Osamu. Osamu who is laughing quietly to himself.

“What?” The idea that this is a joke floods back to him immediately.

“Nothin’, it’s just,” Osamu pauses to regain his breath, smiling up at Rintarou in a way that makes him involuntarily blush. It’s gone as quick as it came. “Yer so on edge it’s kinda cute. And ya know, this is where we first touched,” he emphasizes by tapping his own hip, “they don’t tell ya that.”

“So, we really are soulmates?” _Real good deduction skills there, Rintarou._

“Guess so. So do we kiss now?”

Rintarou can’t stop the scoff that leaves his mouth, but he closes the space between him and Osamu anyways. His hands find Osamu’s biceps again and he chews lightly on his bottom lip as he thinks through what he’s about to do next. _Fuck it._ That’s what soulmates do, right? Rintarou leans forward slowly, fluttering his eyes closed until he presses his lips against Osamu’s lightly. Osamu pushes back to increase the pressure. There’s a sense that both of them are being timid, considering how they had just met. Rintarou groans at how he’s acting and opts to drape his arms over Osamu’s shoulders, fingers slipping through the short hair at the back of his head and up into the silver strands. He feels Osamu tilt his head lightly and part his lips; Rintarou takes the cue and slips his tongue past to take residence in Osamu’s mouth. They work around each other, simultaneously trying to find their rhythm and memorize every part of the other's mouth. It takes a bit to find the right pace, but something clicks and then Rintarou is kissing to bruise and he feels hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans. Osamu pulls back first, slightly winded and panting to catch his breath.

“You could use a redye,” Rintarou comments, pulling his fingers out from the grown out silver locks. “Your roots are coming in.”

“‘m lettin’ it grow out,” Osamu grounds out, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

Rintarou takes in his spit-slick red lips with his eyes, greedily leaning in to steal a peck before his knees buckle slightly and Osamu instantly moves his arms to hold Rintarou up. “Yer still kinda affected, huh? We can slow down, yeah?” Rintarou nods, pressing his head against Osamu’s shoulder and breathing in lightly. Breathing in the scent of the laundry detergent and rice. He hums in delight. “I live upstairs, I can make ya some tea.”

Rintarou takes one more moment to breathe, then stands up straight to lace his fingers between Osamu’s, nodding. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“M’kay. What kind? I can make some warm cinnamon tea with-“

“-with honey?” Rintarou cuts in. Osamu confirms with a light smile and a nod, guiding Rintarou up to his flat, never letting go of his hand. That same familiar warmth spreads across Rintarou’s entire body and he welcomes it.

Maybe the universe knew what it was doing this time.

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me or yell at me on twitter @matsucockwa


End file.
